Musical Mass in Urcos

As regular readers may know, we celebrate a small house mass almost every Monday evening with the religious and volunteers of the area. Participants include Pd. Calilo, Hna, Rosario, the 6 practicantes (student teachers), María (the Spaniard who works at the parish play room), and the JVs. Hosting duties are shared on a basic rotation, and the host always prepares a dinner to follow mass. It's a good tradition celebrating spirituality and social justice in a simple way and in a communal context.*

But sometimes, there are special guests. And if you have special guests, you have to throw a party. And if you have to throw a party, there should be bountiful libations. And if you need bountiful libations, you should go to the Jesuit Residence (because Jesuits have a very liberal interpretation of poverty). So last week, when we had the four members of Siembra and Juan José Chukisengo in town, Monday night mass was held on Wednesday night at the JesRes in Urcos.

Having musical guests at mass at the JesRes means special music provided for mass. Siembra and Chukisengo took turns singing/playing. Pd. Antonio said the mass, which is a treat because he obviously enjoys doing it. After mass ended, Pd. Calilo put everyone to work. Soon plates of food were being passed around, empty glasses were handed out, and enough different alcohols to suit everyone's preferences were pulled out of the chest in the corner. After almost an hour of eating and talking, the plates were cleared and the music began.

This wasn't a sit down and listen type of concert. It was a sing along, request songs, and get up and dance kind of concert. Really, concert isn't the right word for it, though I don't actually know what word I would use instead. What do you call it when there's no audience because everyone is doing music together, though the most talented musicians are obviously doing the most music? If you have an answer, leave it in the comments.

Pd. Calilo loves music, loves dancing, and loves being the center of attention. So of course he danced. He waltzed with Hna. Rosario, he danced marinero (a coastal dance) with one of the women from Siembra, and waltzed again with one of the practicantes. Chukisengo, who comes from the classical world, jumped right in with Siembra. It was a simple matter of asking for the key of the song, and off they all went. María, who sings with a band at bars in Cusco sometimes, sang some American music (she mostly sings American rock). Pd. Calilo and Chukisengo wanted to play some music for the three Americans in the room, only to be stymied by the age gap between them and us. But there was also singing in French and Italian, as well as beloved songs from Spain. The list on my iPod called “Songs to Look Up” grew substantially.

It was almost midnight when the party finally ended. The wise move was to go to bed as soon as you got home, because the next day was the anniversary of FyA 44. But the energy brought by a good time takes awhile to dissipate, so I didn't fall asleep for awhile. These kinds of nights are some of my favorite memories from being part of the extended Jesuit community in Quispicanchi.

*See what I did there?